


A Gift

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: Witcher (Gift Verse) [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, M/M, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Past Rape/Non-con, Post Mpreg, Prompted Work, Prostitute Jaskier | Dandelion, Societally Accepted Slavery/Rape (Of Omegas), Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: Prompt: something like your prostitute fic but with an omega jaskier?(Geralt is not a rapist and no rape occurs on screen)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher (Gift Verse) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009548
Comments: 32
Kudos: 301





	1. Chapter 1

He’d been a court Omega since he’d first presented at thirteen. His first heat had been spent in the back of a wagon, as his father dragged him to court, delighted to be able to sell him.

His second heat, when he was fourteen, he was loaned to a visiting earl that the king was attempting to court favor with. His third heat, a few months later, the count he’d been loaned to had successfully impregnated him. Those nine months he didn’t mind so much, despite the discomfort of being pregnant and the pain from the birth, he was spoiled, allowed to play his lute and write poetry, and never had to warm anyone’s beds.

After he’d given birth he nursed the babe until a wet nurse could be found and was then returned to the harem. Between his heats he was a court entertainer, playing music for the court, swathed in finery and given the best foods. Alphas at court could borrow him for a night, but since he was so popular and well liked, even by the Omega’s handlers, he could afford to pick who he spent his nights with.

His second pregnancy was when he was sixteen. Giving the king’s brother a son elevated his status even higher, until he was practically the cream of the crop. Everyone wanted a night with him, everyone wanted him to play at their parties.

He reveled in the attention.

He gave birth to a son when he was seventeen and a healthy daughter at eighteen. Everyone wanted him, they jostled to win the king’s favor enough to have his heat, to get the chance to impregnate him.

But when he lost his fifth child at twenty, the unborn babe of the king’s cousin, he saw his status crumbling. Loosing one child wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a Court Omega - miscarriages happened, no matter how unfortunate - but he knew he was being watched.

But by the time he was twenty-two, having spent every heat with an Alpha, his womb failed to quicken. The rumors picked up in ferociousness, saying he was damaged, that the miscarriage had broken something, that he would never bear another child.

Panic began to set in.

When a new Witcher moved into town - replacing the last who had been killed fighting a Zeugl - it was decided that he would be given an Omega as a welcoming gift.

Since Witchers were infertile, it only made sense to give away the damaged Omega.


	2. Chapter 2

Dandelion sat perfectly still as the servants put the finishing touches on his makeup, painting his lips red.

He had little idea what he was getting into, which made him uneasy. The last Witcher who had served their king had been from the School of the Cat, but the newcomer was from a different school, the School of the Wolf. According to rumors he’d been traveling the wilds for a long time - decades, perhaps even centuries - but no one knew exactly - it was his first time settling down to serve just one city.

The rumors Dandelion had heard about the previous Witcher made him uneasy. It was said the man had a sadistic streak, that he’d abused the Omegas (he’d had several, no one knew exactly what had happened to most of them, but at least two had been used as monster bait). His last Omega had killed himself shortly after news of the Witcher’s death had spread, so Dandelion couldn’t even speak to him to get information.

The harem Omegas were happy to kill him in on unsubstantiated gossip.

“I heard Witchers have barbed cocks.”

“They eat the balls of their partners, don’t you know?”

“The last once fucked his Omega in the middle of the market square.”

“I was told they peel flesh off your back and eat it.”

They seemed almost gleeful about his downfall, that his spot as the favorite had so spectacularly crashed down around him. But he refused to be upset. He sat perfectly still, keeping his face emotionless. _I’m not afraid of anyone, even Witchers. They said the count I spent my fifth heat with would whip me before he could climax, yet I charmed him and even convinced him to suck me off_.

But still, nerves churned in his stomach. Although that also could have been his impending heat.

Once his makeup was finished they wrapped him in a silk robe and whisked him away to a carriage. Despite the plush seats it was a bumpy and uncomfortable ride - not at all improved by the knotted toy already inserted in his ass - but thankfully short. The Witcher’s residence wasn’t far from the palace.

His handlers led him inside, up a spiral staircase in the center of a house to the Omega’s room. There were windows on all sides of the round room, which looked out over the city. They were high enough up that no ordinary human would be able to see what happened behind the windows, although he had no doubt that the Witcher would be able to see what was happening in the outside world.

In the center of the room was a pit, perfectly circular and about two feet deep. The floor was covered in soft cushions, but he didn’t fail to notice the chains that snaked between them. It was a poor mockery of an Omega’s nest, with blankets and pillows strewn about. Dandelion itched to move them around and position them, but he pushed the feeling down.

Harem Omegas weren’t permitted nests.

He descended the two short steps with his head held high.

“Kneel, Julian.” The harem mother rubbed her hand down his back and pushed him to his knees. A beta, she’d always been kind to him, always been the one to prepare him for his heats and the one to fetch him when he hadn’t been impregnated by the end of it. He couldn’t help the twinge of misery at the idea that he would never see her again.

He sank to his knees, whispering, “Mother, why are there chains?” She wasn’t his mother by birth, but he’d always called her that ever since he’d first met her.

“Omegas tend to flee Witchers,” she explained, snapping a padded cuff around his wrist.

He snorted. “I wouldn’t, you know that.”

“No,” she said, “I don’t.”

She opened his robe in the front and gave him one last long look over, reaching out to tweak the gold bars that were implanted in his nipples (a new addition, since he would never again have to nurse a baby).

“You look beautiful,” she told him, closing the robe again.

She guided him to kneel down, chest to the floor, ass in the air, presenting like a proper Omega. Then she snapped gilded manacles around his wrists and ankles.

She lifted his robe, exposing his ass, and shifted the toy, making certain that the gilded base was fully visible so the Witcher wouldn’t miss it and accidentally fuck it into him. Then she laid his robe back in place.

“Open your mouth Julian.”

He’d never been gagged before. Fear shot through him and he instinctively tried to pull away, but there was no where to escape the chains that pinned him in place. “Please,” he whispered.

“Julian.”

Trembling slightly, he opened his mouth. The gag had a ring in the middle of it, no doubt so that the Witcher could still fuck his throat, and held his mouth open at an uncomfortable angle.

But there was nothing to be done.

“Don’t cry,” she said. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

She adjusted his curls, making certain that they neatly framed his face, then patted his back one last time. _Don’t leave me_ , he thought desperately. _Please don’t leave me. Mother-_

But he could hear her footsteps receding, down the spiral staircase and out of the Omega’s tower. With that, he was left alone.

His heat was certainly coming in, he could feel it, and the thought sent chills up his spine. The Witcher couldn’t be far away, and with his advanced senses surely he could smell Dandelion, couldn’t he?

 _He’s going to kill me_ , Dandelion thought numbly. Without his voice, without words, he’d have no hope of winning the monster hunter over.

But he blinked back tears and took a deep breath, setting his shoulders and trying to look proud (as proud as he could while chained with his ass in the air).

He could feel his heat coming on, stronger than before. His ass clenched desperately around the gilded toy they’d left him with, but he knew it wasn’t the real thing, it wasn’t enough to truly sate him. Slick oozed out of his opening, dripping slowly down his thigh. His hands curled into the cushions, wishing he had an alpha to clutch at.

With his mouth held partway open by the gag it began to dry out. He couldn’t move his tongue to moisten his lips either. 

But worst of all was the cold, seeping into his body slowly despite the robe they’d wrapped him in.

Dandelion didn’t hear the Witcher enter, didn’t smell him or otherwise notice him. He had no idea the man was even in the room until he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Are you Julian?” rumbled a deep voice.

He lifted his eyes, meeting the man’s amber gaze and nodded.

The monster hunter’s lips curled back, exposing sharp, predator’s fangs. A chill of fear went down his spine, remembering the knight who had once delighted in biting his balls. _If be bites me with those I won’t have balls anymore, he realized_.

“Hello, Julian. I’m Geralt.”

Well, at least he had a name of the man who was about to rip him to shreds. Dandelion did his best to smile, but it was difficult to manage with a gag in his mouth.

Geralt frowned and his heart skipped a beat, wondering what he’d already done to displease the man. “Why are you gagged?” Rough fingers reached for his face, clumsily fumbling at the straps that ran around his head. But despite the callouses on his fingers, he was surprisingly gentle as he pulled the gag from Dandelion’s mouth.

“Better?”

“Thank you,” Dandelion whispered. He licked his dry lips and struggled to get enough saliva to moisten his mouth.

“Here,” said the Witcher, turning around and reaching outside of the bed for a glass. “I have water.”

He tried to lift Dandelion’s face to offer him the glass but the chains held him down. Geralt’s face twisted in an odd display of confusion that he wasn’t used to seeing on an Alpha. “Is there a key?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Dandelion admitted.

Geralt glanced around, then grabbed one of the blankets and dipped the corner in the water, then held it to Dandelion’s mouth, letting him suck out the moisture. “Let me find the key,” he said.

He jumped out of the pit gracefully, walking around the narrow platform with silent steps. As soon as he was out of Dandelion’s sight he lost track of him.

“I found it,” said the alpha a moment later. He hopped back into the bed and carefully unlocked the chains. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no easy way of removing the manacles on his wrists or ankles. But with the chains no longer attached Dandelion was able to push himself up and accept the glass of water he was offered. After a quick sip he moved forward, reaching for Geralt’s crotch.

“You don’t have to do that, Julian-”

“Dandelion,” he said suddenly. “I go by Dandelion.”

Geralt tilted his head. “The musician? I’ve heard some of your songs, I- huh. Strange.” He shook his head. “Drink your water.”

Dandelion took a gulp of his drink. “What?”

“I thought you were the king’s favorite.”

“My womb dried up,” he said quietly. “I’m no good to him now.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” Geralt chuckled, leaning back against the edge of the pit. “I’m entirely infertile as well.”

Dandelion pursed his lips. “You do realize I’m going into heat?” he asked.

“I can smell you.”

Dandelion stared at him in disbelief. The man had barely touched him so far. “I’ve never met an Alpha who could keep their hands off a ripe Omega.”

“You’ve never met a Witcher,” Geralt countered.

“No,” Dandelion admitted. “I haven’t.”

Geralt gave him a smile, once again baring his fangs, but somehow it didn’t seem threatening at all. “I don’t intend to harm you, Dandelion, I’m no rapist-”

“Oh sweet Melitele,” Dandelion moaned. “I’ve been given to a gentlemen.” He was in heat, he didn’t want to have to think or do that didn’t involve a cock in his ass, and the damn Witcher apparently wanted to debate biology.

“I’m not that-”

“It’s not rape if I say-”

“You’re in heat,” Geralt said gently. “I don’t think you would turn down any Alpha-”

“I don’t want to turn any Alpha down.” Dandelion sat the now empty cup of water aside, and pulled his robe more tightly around himself. “I certainly don’t want to turn you down.”

“Are you cold?” Geralt asked worriedly. He reached for one of the many blankets that was scattered around them.

“I’m in heat you fucking idiot!”

Geralt froze, his hand still outstretched with the blanket.

“Please,” Dandelion moaned, resting the urge to pull at his perfectly curled hair. “Please if you won’t fuck me then tell the Harem and they can send me to someone else.” He doubted they would. If Geralt wouldn’t take Dandelion he would be seen as even more of a failure.

Omegas who had no claim placed on their heat were left in the Harem for the other Omegas to cuddle and lick and fill with their fingers. It wasn’t as good as an Alpha, but Dandelion had never experienced it. His heats always were claimed. But if he failed as a womb and as Witcher’s companion he wasn’t certain they would even allow that.

The only experience he had with being alone during a heat was his first, and the memory of the chilling cold and emptiness terrified him.

“Am I not beautiful enough?” he whispered, blinking back tears.

“You’re very beautiful,” Geralt promised. “Even with, uh, that.” He pointed at his own face, apparently referring to the makeup they’d painted on Dandelion.

“I’ll take it off,” Dandelion offered. “Or you could lick it. It’s flavored-”

“That explains what I’m smelling. I knew there was something artificial.” Geralt tilted his head then slowly uncrossed his legs. “Sit in my lap.”

Dandelion scrambled for him, wrapping his legs around the man’s waist. Geralt’s hand rested carefully on his back, his touch light and almost hesitant. “So?” Dandelion asked, tilting his head. “Have I charmed you, Witcher?”

“You want my cock that badly, do you Bard?” His eyes seemed to glimmer with lust, as though aware of the man on his lap for the first time. “My knot?”

“Oh yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I made the comment about what happens to the unclaimed Omegas during their heats as a background info, but now I really want an Omega cuddle pile. I might have to write that. 
> 
> Maybe Geralt’s busy during one of Dandelion’s heats and he goes to them for comfort, then Geralt shows up at the end to fuck him after he’s all worn out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: this chapter contains a discussion about suicide and kidnapping(ish?)

Geralt reached out to cup the man’s face, tilting him so that he could study his crystalline eyes. After a moment’s hesitation he leaned forward and kissed him. The Omega purred and kissed him back. His lipstick was sweet, like candy, and without thinking Geralt sucked his lower lip into his mouth to get it all off. He ran his hand through the Omega’s hair, disrupting his neat ringlets and sending them curling about his face.

“Better,” the man whispered, blinking innocently at Geralt. His pupils were blown wide with arousal. “Now you’re going to fuck me.”

“I am?”

“I can feel your cock through your trousers, and if it’s not in my ass within thirty seconds I’m going to cry.”

Geralt let himself smile. “You’ll get it soon enough.” He promised, stroking his hair again. “But perhaps not that soon.”

The bard whined. Geralt pushed his robe off his shoulders, not knocking it all the way off, just enough to expose him, then laid him gently on his back, studying his thin frame. His cock was already hard between his legs, and he was neatly shaven, the only hair on his body was on the top of his head. A thin scar ran under his belly button, from one hip to the other, the only imperfection on his body. Geralt touched it gently, rubbing his thumb over the puckered flesh.

Dandelion suddenly stiffened. “From the babies. It’s safer to surgically remove them.”

Geralt moved his hand quickly, realizing it seemed to be something of a painful topic for the bard.

Hesitantly Geralt reached out and tweaked the piercing that was set in his nipple. The Omega moaned, and arched his neck, his discomfort quickly forgotten. “Geralt…”

With a smile he leaned over and took the man’s cock in his mouth.

Dandelion moaned and grabbed a fistful of Geralt’s hair as he pleasured him, swallowing him down and rubbing his tongue over his length.

“Gods,” the bard babbled. “Gods, Geralt, you’re amazing.” Geralt held his hips gently, bobbing his head up and down the Omega’s length. He could have kept going for longer, but the bard pushed him back, then scrambled practically into his lap.

“I do have one question,” the bard whispered, resting his hand on Geralt’s crotch. “Do you- ah- do Witchers have barbed cocks?”

“I’m told it’s disappointingly normal,” he deadpanned.

“Thank the gods.” Dandelion pulled his pants down and wrapped his mouth happily around Geralt’s cock. But that wasn’t what Geralt wanted from him. He gently lifted the man up, pulling him into his lap. “May I enter you?”

“Please,” sobbed the bard.

Geralt chuckled, laying the man out on his back and rubbing his stomach. Slowly he moved his hand lower, gently wrapping it around Dandelion’s cock. The bard’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“Can I make a tiny request, Geralt?” the man asked. When the Witcher nodded he released him.

“Of course,” he said, rubbing his fingers around the base of the toy that protruded from his hole.

It all seemed to come out of him in a hurry, as though he was afraid of loosing his nerve. “Please don’t talk about fucking pups into me, or how I’ll look when I’m pregnant, or how you can’t wait to suck milk out of my tits, or ask if I make pretty babies. And don’t me a bitch in heat. _Please_.” He suddenly looked so much younger despite the paint on his face or the sadness in his eyes. He looked vulnerable and Geralt wanted to pull him close and promise that no one would ever say such things about him again if he didn’t want it.

But that was difficult to articulate, a fact not helped by the overwhelming smell of Dandelion’s heat, so what came out was, “I can’t fuck pups into you.”

“Yes, well, some people still like to say those things.” Dandelion’s voice was tight, his jaw tense.

“I have never said those things,” Geralt promised. “And I wouldn’t want to.”

“Excellent,” purred the bard. “Now hurry up and put your cock in me.”

He eased the toy out of him carefully, then bent over and pressed a kiss to his slick soaked hole. Dandelion nearly screamed as Geralt’s tongue pressed inside.

“Sweet Melitele,” he moaned into the pillows. “You’re one hell of an Alpha.”

He lapped at the bard’s ass, enjoying every whimper and sob that he made, until he was about ready to fall apart in front of him.

“Geralt, I swear if you don’t knot me, I am going to _die_.”

He finally sat up, gently wrapping his arms around Dandelion’s waist and pulling him closer, until his cock nudged at the Omega’s hole. “Like this?”

“YES!” With that Dandelion pushed his hips forward, spearing himself on Geralt’s cock.

“Oh shit,” he moaned. “Gods, Geralt, you’re huge.”

Geralt sniffed his neck. “You seem to like it.”

“I fucking love it,” moaned the Omega. “You have ruined me for any other Alpha, I can tell you that already.”

“You say that to every Alpha you fuck?” Geralt asked with amusement.

“Of course,” snickered Dandelion, grinning up at him. 

Geralt pulled him closer, leaning over him and pressing his lips to the smudged makeup on the man’s face. “Flavored, you said?” he asked quietly.

Dandelion’s grin grew wider.

He dragged his tongue over Dandelion’s cheek, lapping up the sweet tasting makeup, moving his hips in tandem with his tongue.

Dandelion’s mouth hung open as he panted, moaning in delight from the touches and tastes. “Oh fuck,” he said weakly, his eyes clouded with arousal.

“Close your eyes,” Geralt murmured. He lapped his tongue slowly over his eyelids, cradling the back of his head as he did. One eye at a time he cleaned him slowly, then moved back down his cheeks, making certain he’d gotten all of the makeup off him. The movement of his hips slowed, but neither of them truly noticed, too engrossed in Geralt’s soft treatment.

Once he was content the Omega was clean he leaned back and grinned at him. Without the strange colors his face was still beautiful, youthful and full of life. Geralt kissed him again, just for fun.

“That…” Dandelion sighed blissfully. “Gods that shouldn’t have been so erotic.”

“The taste wasn’t bad,” Geralt teased.

“I’m going to get some of that and put it on my balls next time.”

Geralt laughed. “You don’t have to tempt me to put my mouth on your body,” he promised.

“Do I need to tempt you to fuck me a little harder?” Dandelion wiggled his hips.

The Witcher grinned.

Geralt pulled out of him, flipped him over onto his belly, and then roughly entered him again. The new angle seemed to please Dandelion and he squealed with delight, tightening his hole around Geralt’s cock.

It was enough to wring an orgasm from Geralt and he slammed his hips forward, entering into the man as deep as he could as his knot began to swell.

The Omega gasped and yelped, wiggling about in delight and crying out to half a dozen gods. Geralt continued thrusting in and out of him, even as his knot began to grow, until he could no longer get himself out of the man’s hole without injuring him.

“By the gods,” sobbed Dandelion. “Oh fuck me, that’s delightful.”

Geralt wrapped an arm around his waist, taking his cock in his hand. “Want it to feel better?” he asked quietly.

“Oh _yes_.”

He cupped his hand around Dandelion’s cock, stroking him slowly as he gasped and arched beneath him. “Come for me,” he ordered.

Dandelion was quick to obey, spilling across Geralt’s hand with a sob.

Suddenly boneless, he sprawled out, panting quietly into the cushioned floor. Geralt laid on top of him, mindful of his weight, wrapping his arm around his waist and pulling him close, hiding his face in his shoulder. For a long moment they both laid together as they caught their breath. But something seemed to change about the man beneath him. There was something off about his scent.

Geralt frowned. “Are you crying?”

“No,” said the bard, his voice thick with tears.

He clucked his tongue. “Did I hurt you?”

“Gods you’re so nice, Geralt,” he whispered, rubbing his palms into his eyes. “No, you’ve not hurt me, I just- heats make me emotional.”

“Understandable,” rumbled Geralt.

“Most Alphas just ignore me,” promised Dandelion. “It’s _fine_.”

He was quiet for a moment, letting the man work through his tears on his own, then asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” He wouldn’t blame the man if he said no, after all, Geralt was a complete stranger who was currently attached to his ass via a knot.

But it seemed that he did want to talk about it. Perhaps no one had offered before. “I miss my babies.” He shifted, around, guiding Geralt until the Witcher was sitting up with Dandelion in his lap, mindful not to pull too hard on his knot. “Well, no, I don’t miss them, actually. Just the concept.”

“You have children?” Geralt asked. He knew that he did, of course, he’d seen the scar, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Three boys and girl,” he whispered. “And the one I lost. That was a girl as well.”

Geralt didn’t know what to say. He knew about the Omega Harem, knew they were loaned out to give babies to Alphas, but he didn’t know much beyond that. “Do you wish you could raise them?”

“Gods no,” snorted Dandelion. “I’d be a terrible father.” He frowned, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t even like kids.” He blinked and looked away. “When I’m in heat I think about them. It- it was all I was told I would ever be worth. Having babies, having sex. Having more babies. Dying in childbirth or retiring to take care of the next generation of the Harem.” He sniffed and wiped his nose. “I don’t know why I’m saying this. I’m stupid when I’m in heat.” 

Geralt rubbed his back. “Your poetry is famous,” he offered. “Its good, or so I’m told by those who know such things.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dandelion said quietly. “I’m an Omega first, a poet second.”

“Not anymore,” said Geralt. “A barren Omega is practically a Beta, wouldn’t you say? You might as well devote your time to poetry.”

Dandelion hesitated, then slowly asked, “You would allow that?”

Geralt snorted. “I don’t own you-”

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Geralt, you actually do own me, you realize that?”

He did, unfortunately, but that didn’t mean he had to act like it. “I don’t want to. Do what you like. Fuck what you like. Leave if you’d like, it’s all the same to me.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Dandelion said quickly. “A failed Omega- Geralt I’d end up in a whorehouse-”

“You can stay,” Geralt promised. “I- fuck.” He shook his head. “I’m not trapping you. Do what you want. If staying is what you want then I wouldn’t decline the company.”

Dandelions stared at him, then suddenly twisted his face away. A soft sob escaped him and Geralt snapped to attention. “Dandelion?”

The bard curled in on himself. “Gods I can’t think.”

“You don’t have to,” Geralt promised, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Don’t decide today or tomorrow. Just… be happy.”

“They said you would kill me,” he sobbed. “I- I came here to die and gods- gods you’re so nice.”

“I’m not-” Geralt sighed, carefully wrapping his hand around the Omega’s waist, reaching with his other wrist to push his scent gland into Dandelion’s, hoping the sensation would calm him. It seemed to, and Geralt held him as tightly as he could, hoping some of the concern would get through to him. “I have heard about what happened with the last Witcher who lived here. I met Alek - his Omega - before the boy died.”

“I knew him when I first joined the Harem,” Dandelion whispered. “He was so kind to me. Then they sent him to the Witcher and-” he shivered. 

“That man was a monster,” Geralt said. “Some Witchers are. Some humans are. Some monsters are better than some humans. It’s just how the world works.”

“They said Alek jumped,” Dandelion whispered. He turned to look at Geralt, his eyes quizzical. “Why?”

Geralt lifted his hand, pointing across the room to a window with new glass. “That window overlooks the courtyard of the manor,” he explained.“I’d only arrived a few days before. I had spoken with him, but he didn’t trust me yet. He thought I was no different than the last man.” He sighed. “I can’t blame him for that.”

Dandelion twisted to lean his head into Geralt’s neck and mewled quietly, an obvious attempt at soothing him. It didn’t work, but he appreciated it and nuzzled back. “Alek went into heat overnight. He was usually chained before, but I had released him. I don’t believe in chaining people.” He rubbed his hand over Dandelion’s thin wrist, where the manacle still gleamed. As soon as his heat was over he was going to the Harem and demanding they remove it.

“I found him in the courtyard the next morning. He had broken the window and jumped. He died on impact. No suffering.” That had been Geralt’s only consolation when he’d found the broken body. It had been quick, his neck had snapped on impact.

Geralt had given him a proper burial and hoped, wherever he had gone, that he was at peace. The Witcher wasn’t a religious man, but the boy deserved it.

“I thought you would be like that too,” Dandelion whispered. “But you’re a good man.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Yes, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I’m working on that Omega cuddle pile I mentioned last chapter, but it’s got a mind of its own and is currently three or four chapters and involves an orgy with several Omegas + (eventually) one very soft and slightly confused Geralt. 
> 
> I’m quarantined for a possible Covid exposure and this is my escape. Love me.


End file.
